Jealousy
by 221BSW
Summary: Sherlock has returned after the Reichenbach Fall, but not everything is how he left it.
1. Chapter 1

John walked up the stairs of 221B Baker Street, the sight of Sherlock sitting in his chair still a shock to his system. It was only a week ago when John had returned from another mundane shift at the practice to find Sherlock sitting in the exact same position he was now. 3 years ago John wouldn't have blinked to see Sherlock sitting in his arm chair, but that was before everything with Moriarty. And before Sherlock jumped off the roof of St. Bart's.

John remembered that cold January day as if it was yesterday. His frequent nightmares still haunted him; seeing Sherlock on that roof, hearing the agony in his voice as he said goodbye, and feeling absolutely nothing when he felt his wrist. Sherlock's suicide destroyed John. He'd had friends who had died in horrific ways in Afghanistan, but none had ever caused him this much pain. Because none had ever come back.

"Spag bol for dinner. Is, er, that ok? Sherlock?" Saying his name so casually felt so strange. But equally wonderful. John placed the Tesco bags on the kitchen table and started to take out ingredients ready to prepare spaghetti bolognese.

"Who else is coming?" Sherlock perked up, his eyes scrutinising John's.

"Sorry?"

"Who is the third person joining us tonight?" John's face remained baffled, wondering how Sherlock knew he'd invited a guest. "The ingredients. There's enough there for at least 3 people. You've never bought extra when it's just us."

"Oh, erm, yeah." John would have to get used to not being able to have any secrets again. "Molly. Molly is coming. Hope that's alright." John twitched an innocent smile at Sherlock.

"That's fine," Sherlock replied, in a deep monotone.

* * *

John was laying the table when the doorbell rang. Sherlock hadn't moved from his seat all evening, leaving all the cooking to John. As soon as the bell rang John trotted down the stairs to greet Molly. Sherlock's head snapped towards the door; John never usually greeted people downstairs. Something was up.

"H-hi. Hi, Sherlock," Molly squeaked as she entered the flat. John took her coat and Molly awkwardly approached Sherlock, her eyes not flickering away from his face. This was the first time she had seen him since he had returned. Sherlock stood up and went to greet Molly, but before he could say anything she flung her arms around him, before quickly recoiling. "I'm sorry. I...I've just missed you." Sherlock straightened his shirt and flashed her a killer smile.

"That's alright, Molly. Shall we eat?"

"Sherlock," John said seriously, not moving. Sherlock turned around to see John and Molly both looking rather nervous.

"What? What's going on?" Sherlock hated not being in the know. However, his confusion was cleared up when he saw John's hand intertwine with Molly's. "Oh."

"Sherlock, look," John started, a hint of guilt in his voice. "Molly and I got close after...after you left and..."

"John. You don't need to explain. I'm very happy for you both." He gave a courteous nod and turned around and took a seat at the table, Molly and John following.

Dinner went by quietly. John tried, in vain, to start a conversation several times. Sherlock didn't look up from his dish until he'd finished his meal, at which point he got up and resumed his position in his chair. John and Molly talked in low voices as they cleared up the kitchen, Molly letting out a high-pitched and girly giggle a couple of times. At about 9pm, an hour after dinner, they headed for the door. Molly mumbled a shy goodbye to Sherlock, who mumbled one back. John fetched her coat and hung it around her shoulders before putting a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. He said something to her quietly, making Molly giggle again, Sherlock now watching with intrigue. John said goodbye before planting a gentle kiss on Molly's pink lips.

Sherlock saw this small, sweet act of intimacy and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Sherlock snapped his head back, focusing on a point directly ahead of him as he realised what that feeling was. Jealousy.


	2. Chapter 2

John looked up from his broadsheet newspaper, his lips tight with frustration.

"Sherlock. What's wrong?" Sherlock has been staring intently at John for almost an hour, his hands in steeple position against his mouth, not saying anything. Just staring. John had tried to ignore it, but the dull events of London were no longer a sufficient distraction.

"Nothing," Sherlock replied, his stare not wavering.

"Then stop staring at me." John stood up, folded his newspaper, placed it on a side table and started to walk away.

"How long have you and Molly been...you and Molly?" John sighed. He was worried Sherlock might have had an issue with this. He had barely said a word since she came for dinner last night.

"Last summer," John confessed. He felt like an adultering spouse. He had to remind himself he wasn't doing anything wrong. He was allowed a girlfriend. Sherlock just happened to know this one.

"Over a year," Sherlock stated, his opinion on the matter unreadable in his voice. "How serious is it?"

"Sherlock!" John threw his arms up, exasperated; he didn't have to explain his relationship to Sherlock. "It's...it's serious enough." He moved so he could see Sherlock's face, which was emotionless as ever. John was getting irritated with his stubbornness. Like old times. "When you..." Sherlock's eyes flickered to meet John's. "When you weren't here we...struggled. We were grieving your death. You _left_ us!"

"I died to save you," Sherlock interjected, sounding almost insulted, striking a nerve with John.

"_NO!_ Sherlock. No, you didn't!" John tried not to lose his temper, but was failing. "Don't make yourself out to be a saviour. You did _not _die. You won't even tell me _how _you didn't die, for god's sake! I _watched _you...I watched you jump." John's voice was starting to crack, the flashbacks of that day as painful as if he had jumped. "You have no idea what I went through. How many times I _seriously _considered following in your steps!" Sherlock felt a pang of guilt, but remained silent. "Molly...Molly was there for me." John inhaled sharply, trying to calm himself. "I went to your grave _every _week."

"I know." Sherlock's reply struck John hard, rendering him speechless, his blood boiling up inside of him. The thought that Sherlock _knew _and had _seen _John at his grave made him feel physically sick. Unable to say anything without it resulting in breaking Sherlock's jaw, John marched out of the room.

* * *

"M-morning, Sherlock," Molly said cheerily as she walked into the lab the next morning. "Working on a new case?" She put on her lab coat, her face lit up at Sherlock's return to the lab.

"No. Just an experiment." Sherlock didn't look up from the microscope.

They worked in silence on their own projects until Molly perked up for lunch. "I'm going to get a sandwich for lunch. Do you want anything?"

"Egg and cress, please," Sherlock replied with a smile.

Molly returned shortly with their sandwiches. Molly had also gone for an egg and cress.

"John said you've been together for over a year," Sherlock said bluntly, causing Molly to freeze in shock for a second.

"Um, yeah. About 14 months now," she said with a secret smile.

"You never showed interest in him before." Molly froze again, blushing a rose pink, knowing Sherlock knew about her infatuation with him before.

"That was...before." Molly took a bite of her sandwich, embarrassed. Sherlock hadn't touched his yet. "John is a good man."

"I know."

"A lot changed in those 3 years, Sherlock," Molly said, trying to reassure him. Though she wasn't sure why she was consoling him.

"I still have that gift you gave me all those Christmases ago," Sherlock said, changing the subject slightly.

"Oh?" Molly blushed again, her eyes glistening at Sherlock.

* * *

"Where have you been?" John said, looking up from his laptop.

"Just...out." John knew there was no point trying to get anything else out of him.

"I just got off the phone to Molly," John started. Sherlock slumped in his chair, preparing himself for John to go off on one again. "Look, Sherlock. My relationship with Molly has nothing to do with you." Sherlock rested his chin on his hand. John softening his tone, trying to understand that it must have been a shock for him. "It doesn't affect _our _relationship. We'll still solve cases, and I'll still blog about it. You just need to get back on the horse and get a case." John looked for a reaction on Sherlock's face, desperately reaching out to his dearest friend.

"Neither of you were interested in each other before. I'm not an expert on love but I know _that_," Sherlock said, stamping on John's sympathetic words.

"Sherlock! Will you just drop it and accept that Molly is now an important part of my life?" John was shouting now, absolutely livid Sherlock was saying these things.

"Do you love her?" Sherlock said calmly, look at John directly. John gaped, speechless.

"Sherlock... wh-?"

"Do. You. Love her?"

John was silent.


End file.
